


morpheus, weave me a tale

by owlbearfiction



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Implied/Referenced Torture, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23934886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlbearfiction/pseuds/owlbearfiction
Summary: Scylla knew the military wasn't going to roll out the red carpet when they captured her. She was well aware of how she was likey to be treated, hell, the Spree had even trained her for some of it. She just didn't expect them to pull this.[My speculation on what those 1x07 promo photos were, all this was written before the episode aired!]
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 13
Kudos: 155





	morpheus, weave me a tale

A low thrum had settled into Scyllas temples, something well past a headache but not quite a migraine. Magical probing will likely do that. The muscles in her jaw twitched as the door in front of her slid open again. The muscles in her shoulders blades bunching and then releasing, she hadn’t moved from this chair in what felt like days. There was no light here, she had no way of truly tracking time. Two figures walked through the door stilling just outside of where the lights shone. Her fingertip trailed in an ever-familiar pattern in her palm. 

They weren’t getting anything out of her, she was damn sure of that. It’s not even like she had any information to give, Alder said it best in her first year. The Spree are meant to collapse in on each other when compromised, the less she knows the better and the Spree had made sure of that.

She didn’t even know what they wanted Raelle for. But, it doesn’t really matter anymore. 

Alder was the first to walk fully into the room. Her shoulders knocked back, a posture meant to instill fear, relay power. All Scylla saw was a woman well past her relevance in history. A woman dragging witches further into what she initially fought against. 

“Maybe this time,” Alder said walking past Scylla’s chair and stopping behind her, “you’ll talk.”

Her eyebrow ticked up as her tongue pressed up against her teeth. She hadn’t spoken a word to them since she’d been brought here, nothing was going to change that. She felt Alder shift behind her a hand gripping her shoulder. Her pulse picked up, determination or not this constant bombardment was always unpleasant. Fingers dug deeper into her bare shoulder as the other figure by the doorway stepped further into the room. 

Anacostia. 

Scylla couldn’t help but bare her teeth in a faux smile. She was exactly where Anacostia wanted her, the other woman must be reveling in this. Alder’s hand left her shoulder, the clicking of the woman’s heels moving from behind her to her periphery. She looked smug. Hot hate bit at the back of her tongue as she watched Alder stroll over to the door and lean up against it nodding towards Anacostia. 

The older woman shifted in front of her, her eyes barely meeting her own. Scylla caught something in the other woman’s gaze she was certain she’d never see, guilt. What in the goddess could they possibly be planning. She had little time to mull over what the two were plotting before callused palms placed themselves on her shoulders. The grip was less harsh than Alder’s, something that left Scylla confused. Anacostia had never shown her any form of kindness.   
“Collar asked about you today.” The woman said as she shifted her hands on Scylla’s shoulders. 

Her girlfriend’s name left her heart spasming painfully in her chest. The muscles in her jaw clenched as she shifted her feet back, she hadn’t planned to fall as hard as she did for Raelle but after actually meeting her it seemed inevitable. The way her eyes scrunched when she was smiling, the genuine kindness that seemed to radiate from her. Scylla didn’t stand a chance. 

“Let us begin,” Alder said from the doorway cocking her head to the side, watching. She always watched. 

The taste of metal kicked up into the back of her mouth as all her muscles tensed, her teeth clacking together as a grunt was ripped from her lips. Her eyes locked on Alder, she wasn’t going to look away from that damned woman. 

“Just, let me in!” Anacostia yelled, her voice sounding warped, like the interference on a radio had been turned up. 

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, her lungs were spasming too violently. Blood roared in her ears her heart pounding after it, it sounded too fast, too frantic. Everything hurt, she was going to pass out. White streaks ran across her vision like webs branching out before everything turned to black. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Her mouth tasted like metal and a soreness had settled into her muscles that basic training would never be able to replicate. She was tired. A sigh rattled deep from her chest, she was never going to get out of this place was she. The thought was something that had crossed her mind before, she just refused to let it stick. She didn’t want to be consumed with the crushing helplessness that followed after. Didn’t want to think about who she’d be leaving outside. 

Ever since meeting Raelle the emotions she’d locked behind doors and in boxes kept on shaking themselves loose. She was certain that she’d managed to banish all of them but, Raelle truly had a way of knocking her off balance, pulling things from her she was certain didn’t exist anymore. She loved her. 

The door jerked open harsh light rushing into the rest of the room. Scylla’s eyes snapped shut trying to prevent any more aggravation to her migraine. She must look pathetic, cowering with her eyes closed. Her teeth snapped shut as her brows tensed, she could at least look them in the eyes. Taunt them for not getting her to talk. Her eyes opened and her chin lifted. She was defiance, she was the filthy Spree they were never going to crack, and she… she was going to die smug about it. 

All breath left her lungs.

She was expecting Alder, she was expecting Anacostia. She wasn’t expecting Raelle. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Light silhouetted her form in the doorway but the voice, that shaking voice. Scylla would recognize it anywhere.

“Scyl?” 

Raelle rushed forward and all Scylla felt were soft palms against her cheeks. Rushed questions that wouldn’t register. All she knew was that she was smiling, something she hadn’t done in days. She couldn’t believe this. 

“How…” The question couldn’t help but tumble from her lips. This was the last thing she was expecting, it didn’t feel real. 

“I can explain later,” Raelle rushed out interlocking her fingers with Scylla’s, “first I’m gonna get you out of here.” 

Shakey breath stuttered out from her lips as she nodded her head. Even in a room that had been her personal hell for the past few days Raelle somehow managed to bring this feeling of safety, of calm. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” Raelle murmured pressing her lips to the top of Scylla’s head before shifting the weight on her feet.

Scylla had just now noticed that she was barefoot.

“Where are your shoes?” She asked as Raelle started tugging on the lock to the collar around her neck. 

A puff of breath, something not quite a laugh, sounded behind her. 

“Would you believe Abigail hid them?” Exasperation instead of irritation oozed from the statement. Maybe High Atlantic and Raelle had started getting along better.

“That does sound like something High Atlantic would do,” Scylla mused rolling into her best impression of Abigail, “I will not have you endangering this unit, Raelle.” 

She turned as best she could towards where Raelle was, “Did I nail it?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Raelle said a small smile settling itself on her face.

This joking, it felt almost normal. The collar pressed up tight against her neck as Raelle shifted the lock cursing under her breath. She wasn’t sure how much time they had left like this, alone, not on the precipice of treason. Scylla had to tell her, she didn’t want Raelle to hear it from anyone else. 

“Rae,” the shake in her voice was hard to miss and it immediately made Raelle pause. 

“Scylla,” She said walking in front of her, “what’s wrong?” 

She met Raelle’s gaze and her throat tightened, she was too good for her. Hot tears bit at the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t even remember the last time she cried and here she was, breaking. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Raelle hushed wiping at her cheeks, “talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Everything, nothing. She had no idea how to even start this conversation. 

Boots slamming down a corridor echoed down the hallway and through the open door. They were going to be found out, Raelle was going to be punished. Panic surged up and filled her throat.

“You need to run,” Scylla said, locking eyes with Raelle.

She could read the protests filling them, the refusal to leave her, they had just found each other again. She tugged against the chains just barely being able to hold Raelle’s hands. Her hands lightly shook as she held Raelle’s gaze.

“Run,” She murmured squeezing her girlfriend’s hands. 

Raelle’s hands fell from her own and something painful spasmed in her chest. This goodbye felt… permanent. Scylla watched as Raelle jogged to the door, paused, looking over her shoulder. 

“Go.” She urged putting on a brave face. 

Raelle nodded and turned, disappearing from view. Uneven breath stuttered from Scyllas lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. A grunt followed by shouts filled the hallway, voices full of false authority shouting orders. An angry voice raw with emotion responding back. Then another voice cut through the rest, one Scylla had become more and more familiar with. One she loathed. 

“No, this is perfect, bring her in.” 

Alder strode in followed by two officers she didn’t recognize, Raelle between them. She couldn’t breathe right, this all felt too familiar. She’d seen this before, had been forced to watch this before. 

“Maybe,” Alder hummed, “this will get you to talk, hmm?” 

Scylla had experienced a fair share of tragedy, understood the phrase of ‘time slowing down’. It had nothing to do with magic, and when everything came rushing back to speed she was always left with heartbreak. Alder grabbed Raelle by the cheeks, looking over her shoulder to make sure Scylla was watching. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. 

“Shame,” Alder tsked driving a blade into Raelle’s stomach.

Someone was screaming, it took her a moment to realize it was her. She couldn’t look away from Raelle. Who stood there, shocked, as Alder ripped the blade from her. 

“If you talk,” Alder mused, wiping the blood off her knife, “we can bring a fixer in here.”

All Scylla could focus on was Raelle, how her lower lip was quivering, how fast her chest was rising. Her arms pulled against the chains venom building in her throat for this so-called leader. Alder gestured for the two other officers to leave, then followed the two. Raelle wobbled where she stood before leaning against the wall slowly sliding down it to the floor. 

“I’ll leave you alone for the time being,” Alder said, sliding the door closed after her. 

Everything was wrong, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Scylla was fully prepared to be tortured to death, she was ready to never be let out of this room, she wasn’t ready for this. To see the life leak out of Raelle’s eyes as she pulled and pressed at her stomach, at the growing stain there. 

“Raelle,” Scylla muttered, she felt helpless chained to this chair.

A faint smile tugged at Raelle’s face, she was trying to calm Scylla down even now. 

“Don’t worry,” Raelle grunted shifting on the floor, “I’ll be fine.” 

She wasn’t going to be, it was clear that she was lying. Scylla was going to watch another person she loved die and she didn’t have any way to stop it. She knew nothing, she had no information to give Alder and no one would believe her. A tremor ran through Raelle that had desperation strike hot through Scylla. She was losing too much blood, she was fading too quickly.   
“Scylla,” Raelle murmured a shaky breath leaving her throat, “I should’ve told you,” another unsteady breath, “at the wedding.” 

Scylla couldn’t look away from Raelle, couldn’t stop watching as her girlfriend’s hand weakly fell from her side her head resting against the wall. Their eyes locking as the words fell from Raelle’s mouth.

“I love you.” 

A sob ripped from her throat, this wasn’t supposed to happen. How could something hurt so much when she wasn’t the one in pain, the one dying. 

“I don’t,” Scylla gasped, “I don’t have anything to tell them, I can’t…” she sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” 

The bindings bit into her wrists as she leaned forward, she wished she could get closer, give the soft assurances she wanted to. Instead, all she could do was watch, watch as Raelle half-heartedly smiled at her, her eyes starting to droop. 

“It’s okay.” Raelle sighed her eyes closing and then barely opening again, she looked so pale. 

“I love you,” Scylla said, she could feel the tears running down her cheeks, taste the salt in them. 

Raelle’s eyes slid shut and didn’t open again. Something solid dropped in Scylla’s chest and suddenly she was screaming and straining against her binding. There might still be time for them to bring fixers in, they wouldn’t really let Raelle die. They couldn’t, Anacostia wouldn’t let them do this. She was desperate, they couldn’t let this happen.

“Please!” she screamed at the door.

“Please, I don’t know anything, please!” 

Vibrant white tugged at the corner of her vision, little tendrils of white interlocking and further filling her vision before it was all she could see. A sharp metallic taste filled her mouth and the feeling of tumbling backwards overcame her before she was grounded again in the chair. Firm hands gripped her shoulders. The room was silent except for her hiccuping breaths as tears continued to stream down her face. She blinked a few times her eyes readjusting, she felt sick. 

None of it was real. 

Alder still stood in the doorway watching, a satisfied smirk on her lips. Scylla closed her eyes folding in on herself, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real. Raelle was alive. 

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” Alder said from the doorway, a promise Scylla knew she would keep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I hope you all enjoyed, I'm still trying to get a hang on how to write Scylla and Raelle and hope I did them justice. The person who typically beta reads my fics hasn't caught up on the show so all mistakes are mine and I apologize in advance, I normally put out things a little more polished. If you want to interact with me you can follow me on twitter @ollie_griffins. I'm juggling a few other fics rn but I plan on writing a few more things for this fandom afterwards!


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